Why would they?
When one of their own, the monarch, her husband, didn't accept her or cherish her or even want to get to know anything about her.
The only thing he'd wanted from her was help saving face - and her presence in his office for his own pleasure that one time. If that was all he wanted, why would his family want anything more?
“Are you ready?”
Katrín turned to see Princess Genevieve - at least she thought that’s who it was rather than Princess Evangeline - waiting for her. “As ready as one can ever be when marrying a king, I suppose.”
A sad smile crossed the princess’s face. “That’s one way to look at it. Another way would be that you’re marrying the man of your dreams.”
“That would be another way to look at it,” Katrín admitted, without actually saying that was how she felt. “But even if Benjamin is the man of my dreams, he’s also the king. With that comes a whole host of other issues and pressures and responsibilities that I’m not certain I’m ready for.”
“I would tell you that we’ll help in any way possible, but my brother informed me earlier today that he wanted you all to himself for a while. Since he’s unable to leave right now for an official honeymoon, he’s sending the rest of us on an extended vacation to the St... an extended vacation.”
Katrín hadn’t thought about a honeymoon, or how she’d explain her absence to Mr. Bond. He was already going to be annoyed she missed today, though she turned in the proper paperwork for a day off.
“I appreciate the thought, regardless, Your Royal Highness.”
The princess frowned at the title. “I thought my mother told you none of that was necessary in private. In fact, in about an hour, once my brother signs the order, all of us will defer to you as the Queen Consort. The only one you fall under in the Orders of Precedence is Benjamin and perhaps my mother, as the former queen, depending on how the order is worded.”
“That won’t be awkward for any of you, will it?” Despite the weariness in her tone, Katrín hoped the princess also heard the absurdity of it.
“Most likely, my brother won’t enforce it in private.” Her face took on a hard look, one so fleeting Katrín thought she might have misunderstood. “Unless you insist.”
Katrín shook her head. “I don’t see why I would. I am not a member of your family. I’m just me.”
Princess Genevieve seemed to shake herself out of whatever funk she was in. “We’re all just me.” She started to say something else, but a throat cleared behind her. “It’s time.”
Katrín followed her down the hall, someone she didn’t know taking care of her train for her. As they walked, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror.
Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, nothing like how she normally wore it when she wasn’t working. Her eye makeup was far darker and more dramatic than anything Katrín would have attempted on her own. The lipstick was such a dark red, it was nearly maroon.
None of that struck her hardest.
Instead, it was the nearly vacant look in her eyes that concerned her the most.
Could she manage to make this look convincing rather than like she was being forced into this?
The argument could be made that she was doing this against her will, but she wasn’t being forced.
She needed to smile, to take a deep breath, and make herself relax. Even if she wasn’t going to get a happily ever after in the traditional sense, this was still the first day of the rest of her life.
Princess Genevieve looked at her and smiled before taking a left turn and entering through the double doors.
The music changed. The event planner motioned her forward.
Time to go.
5
Benjamin signed his name with a flourish borne of years of practice. He didn’t always, but for this kind of official, ceremonial document, it was almost a necessity.
Katrín stood at his side, having already signed the marriage document. This one solidified her spot in the Orders of Precedence. He remained at the top. His mother retained her spot as the second in the order in deference to her position as both his mother and the former queen. Then Katrín, as the wife of the king, took third place as the queen consort. His family knew he wouldn’t enforce the strict hierarchy in private. His immediate family, except Isaiah, never had.
Isaiah, despite his position so close to the end of the hierarchy that he would soon fall off it all together, had often tried to insist that everyone except Benjamin, and perhaps Louise, should defer to him.
Benjamin signed his name to several more documents securing Katrín’s position as Queen Consort. He placed the quill back in its stand then offered his arm to the woman who was now his wife. An unexpected jolt worked its way through his system as she slid her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow.
The bellow of someone unseen could be heard throughout the cathedral, announcing that King Benjamin had named Katrín Jønsson as his consort. As custom dictated, he’d stood with his back to the crowd as Katrín walked down the aisle. He’d yet to get a good look at her. He had not gotten a look at the crowd until now.
On one side stood his mother, tears running freely down her cheeks, with the rest of his siblings lined up next to her. Darius, and his wife, Princess Esther of San Majoria, being the notable exceptions. He wasn’t sure how his brother’s absence would be explained.
Across the aisle sat a teenager in a motorized wheelchair. Next to him stood a woman so similar to the one at Benjamin’s side that there was no mistaking their relationship. Tears ran down her cheeks as well. The young man wore a grin unlike any Benjamin had ever seen. His face practically glowed.
The man continued to yell something about Benjamin and his bride. The assembled crowd all bowed or curtsied. He waited for half a beat then gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. Everyone returned to their standing position.
It was one of the few times Katrín wouldn’t be expected to curtsy as well.
Did he expect her to in private? Benjamin shoved the thought out of his mind as music began to play. That was the cue for them to leave. He made certain to walk slowly down the stairs so she wouldn’t trip. When he thought about it long enough, he knew Katrín wasn’t used to formal clothes and the heels she had to be wearing. She was several inches too tall.
Benjamin knew he had a reputation for being stoic and that served him well as he walked back up the aisle with Katrín next to him. He did his best to hint at a smile.
“That’s over,” Katrín whispered as they exited the cathedral proper into the narthex.
“You did well,” he told her. “I know being in front of so many people the first time can be intimidating.”
“You grew up doing this.”
His mind flashed to the first time he’d stood in the front of the cathedral, as he took the scepter and wore the crown for the first time. “It’s still overwhelming.” Six months after the death of his father and still too soon.
“Now what?”
The outer doors opened in front of them as they continued to walk. “Now we take a carriage ride back to the palace along a very winding parade route through Akushla.” The carriage was only a few steps from the door. They weren’t expected to acknowledge the crowd just yet.
“Fabulous.” The word was barely breathed, so Benjamin could hardly hear it. Someone wrapped a cloak around her.
“Just remember to smile and wave. Did you see the photos of Jessabelle, wife of Malachi in Mevendia a couple years ago?” Whatever happened next, they couldn’t have that.
“Yes.”
“Do better than she did, and you’ll be fine.”
“Perhaps more like Princess Yvette did after her wedding in Ravenzario last summer when her fiancé turned out not to be dead?”
He stood to the side to allow Katrín to enter the carriage first. Taking his offered hand, she stepped up. “Precisely.”
“I can offer you somewhere in the middle,” she told him as she sat down, maneuverin
g her dress so he would have enough room. Fortunately, the fabric took up enough space that he wouldn’t be expected to sit too close.
“Very well.”
The driver called to the horses and the carriage began to move. As it rounded the corner, the din of the crowd went from background noise to quite noticeable.
Katrín reached over and rested her gloved hand on his. She didn’t say anything, but gripped it lightly as she began to wave then blow kisses.
Cameras.
She was holding his hand for the cameras.
Benjamin pasted on the best smile he could and began to wave, though he didn’t have the easy grace Katrín seemed to project.
“And after this?” she asked.
“A reception at the palace.” More waving. “We will have dinner on our own.” Just the two of them in an intimate alcove overlooking the city. “Then the wedding ball will last well into the night.”
“Fantastic.”
She continued to wave out her side as he did his best to alternate sides, whispering to her that she should as well. When she turned, he noticed her wide smile. She put on a good show, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
As an actress playing the part, she was doing quite well.
“You never told me what we’re doing for our honeymoon.” Her smile didn’t falter, but Benjamin felt his slip.
“We’re not going on one,” he told her. Had she expected a vacation? That wasn’t part of the deal. “I have work that can’t be put off or given to anyone else to do, so here we’ll stay.”
“I know. I just wanted to hear it from you.” She turned to wave out her side again.
She already knew? What game was she playing?
For whatever his other faults, King Benjamin was polite, if a bit entitled. Though Katrín understood the protocol of it, she wasn’t crazy about always being expected to walk a step or two behind.
In the last couple of weeks, when she had time, she went to the computer area available to off-duty employees. She’d searched for modern consorts to see what kind of protocol she might need to follow. What she’d found, in general, was that prince consorts tended to walk a step or two behind. Prince Philip was often cited as an example. But he was also a good foot or so taller than Queen Elizabeth. If they walked side by side, someone wouldn’t be able to see the queen. Same with Queen Christiana and Duke Alexander in Ravenzario and Queen Adeline and Prince Charlemagne in Montevaro.
The queens consort though... The ones Katrín looked at, including her new in-laws tended to be a bit more equal. Maybe a half-step behind. Of course, all of those women were significantly shorter than their husbands, so they weren’t obstructing any view. Katrín was nearly a foot shorter than her new husband. She wouldn’t be obstructing anything.
Maybe it was just ingrained in him, and he really didn’t notice. If anything, on her wedding day, a bride was supposed to be in the spotlight. Katrín had no desire to steal it from him, but she wouldn’t mind sharing a little bit either.
She stayed a full step behind him as they walked through the palace, and he took long steps, so she had to scurry to stay even that close.
They’d taken pictures. Smiled appropriately - she hoped - as the photographer clicked away. Fortunately, they were limited to what they expected to release to the public and not anything more than that, though she did at least get to sit at the red piano again, though she didn’t play.
Katrín followed him through an arched entryway to an alcove with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city of Akushla. A small table for two sat in front of the windows.
A staff member Katrín didn’t recognize pulled her seat out for her. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“My pleasure, ma’am.” He then removed the silver domes off both plates with a flourish. “Enjoy your meal, Your Majesties.”
Majesties? He was including her?
Katrín bowed her head and prayed to herself, blessing the food and asking for strength to get through the rest of the day, the year, her life as presumed dead.
“Won’t there be dinner at the ball this evening?” she asked King Benjamin as he took a bite. No. Not King Benjamin. The man was her husband. At least in her mind, she should be able to refer to him by just his name.
Benjamin frowned. “No.”
“Really? A whole ball and no food?”
He didn’t look at her, but cut another bite of food. “There will be food. The guests are eating right now, but in a banquet hall.”
“And we’re not with them... why exactly? It’s a bit odd for the bride and groom not to show up for their own wedding feast, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps in many places, but here, it is customary for the monarch and the new spouse to have a meal alone.”
“I see.” She didn’t. Not really. She’d much rather be in the banquet hall with her family sitting at the same table. No one would guess the tears in her eyes as she walked down the aisle weren’t because the love of her life waited at the other end.
Not in the traditional wedding sense.
No, she’d seen her little brother spin his wheelchair around and watch her. His grin had always been able to light up the room, and this time it lit up the whole cathedral. On the other side of him, their mother. She also looked tearful, though more of a happy or possibly bittersweet tearful than Katrín felt.
It was the closest she’d been to her family in years and all she’d been able to do was give a watery smile.
The food looked and smelled delicious, but Katrín barely tasted the little she ate.
“I don’t believe we discussed what happens after this.” Benjamin took another bite, his plate nearly clean.
Great. One thing she’d learned in her research was that when Benjamin finished eating, the meal was over. If the way he currently devoured his food was any indication, she’d have to find a lot of snacks when she ate with him. But he’d asked her a question. “No. We didn’t.”
“For the time being, I expect no changes in your arrangements.”
Why would there be? She’d just become queen of his country. What else would she be expected to do? He didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer, but she nodded anyway. Just as well. She didn’t belong in the world she imagined the royal family occupied. If they’d eaten in the banquet hall, she probably would have made a fool of herself and the family by using the wrong fork or drinking at the wrong time. Kind of like Mia in Princess Diaries at her first state dinner.
“How long is this thing tonight? Are we expected to dance or what?”
“Word has been circulated that you’ve injured one of your ankles, and you are unable to dance this evening.”
“Just as well. I’d hate for you to have to pretend you like me any more than you absolutely have to. It wouldn’t do for the general public to discover that an already not-very-popular king seriously dislikes his new bride.”
“I don’t dislike you.” He didn’t even look at her as he said it.
“You clearly don’t actually like me so the point remains the same.” She took a deep breath. “But, for your mother’s sake at least, I’m sure it would be better if no one realized we’re not an actual thing. At least if we’re not dancing, the general public will write off our lack of open affection to the reticence you’ve already exhibited for the last decade.”
He didn’t say anything as she speared a bite of food.
“I mean, no one expects us to be like your parents. Everyone knows you’re nothing like your father.”
6
Benjamin didn’t care what this woman thought of him, so why did it hurt when she said he wasn’t anything like his father?
“I mean,” she went on, “your father was an outgoing, gregarious man. You’re not. Everyone knows you have a much more reserved personality by nature.”
The ache eased a bit. She didn’t mean he wasn’t the kind of man his father was, just that they had different personalities.
Wasn’t that a big part of the reason why the coun
try didn’t like him, though? As Katrín mentioned, his father was beloved by all, and the only thing he loved doing as much as spending time with his family was spending time with his people. Benjamin could honestly say he’d never have the same kind of magnetism his father did. That was part of the problem when it came to his lack of popularity. He didn’t know how to fix that.
Maybe if, after his time as a “grieving widower” he found someone the people adored, someone who could be like that on his behalf, make the people love him through her, as they loved his father.
The thought of his father convicted him. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about his next wife when he’d been married to his current wife for just a couple of hours.
“You’re probably right. It’s better if we don’t give the media any ammunition. Except for the dance with my mother, you’ll stay right by my side, but since everyone has already been told your ankle is bothering you, we’ll stay seated on the dais.”
She simply nodded.
For the first time, Benjamin took a good look at her. This was their fourth meeting. She looked quite different than she had the first three. The first two times, she’d clearly come from work. Her hair had been pulled back, but less severely than now. When she’d come to his office for the engagement ring, her hair had been loose around her shoulders. She hadn’t worn make-up any of those times, or at least nothing like she wore for the wedding.
The most noticeable part of her face was the lipstick. Some sort of very dark red that nearly matched his shirt and the rest of his glass of wine.
“Your Majesties.”
Benjamin turned to see Chamberlain standing in the entry to the alcove. He pushed his plate away slightly. “Yes?”
“You will be introduced to your guests in approximately fifteen minutes.” He bowed slightly at the waist then left.
The Indentured Queen Page 4